


Prologue

by MikaielaFranqui



Series: Secret Heritage [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Harry Potter is Sirius Black's Son, Multi, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-24 00:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19162081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikaielaFranqui/pseuds/MikaielaFranqui
Summary: Harry Potter is just a normal ten-year-old boy living with his aunt, uncle and cousin in No. 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.Or so everyone thought. Even those who did know that the boy was something special, did not really know who he was.But on Harry's tenth birthday, something happens that changes his life forever.





	1. Introduction

21st July 1990

Harry Potter woke up in his cupboard under the stairs, with the inexplicable urge to throw up. This was odd, considering that he had barely eaten anything in the past week, and he usually kept food down for a long time. Nonetheless, it did not seem as though he would last much longer, so he threw all cautions to the wind and sprinted to the bathroom downstairs without getting caught by his relatives - a feat in itself - and retched, hurling whatever was left in his body down the toilet.

He washed his mouth after a while, and tentatively drank a few mouthfuls of water from the tap as well. Goodness knew when he would be able to get something to eat, so this was a necessary precaution he took every time he got the chance to use the bathroom. He glanced up at the mirror as he finished up, and almost fell back from the shock. His eyes, which were normally a bright emerald green, had just turned a bluish silver. They looked like storm-clouds, not gemstones. He was sure that his hair hadn't been that long last night, either. Miraculously, his fear growing greater as he watched in horrified fascination, his eyes turned back to green, and his hair returned to its normal length.

Deciding the better of revealing this to his relatives, he got out of the bathroom just in time to see his aunt coming down the stairs. She caught sight of him and instantly, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Get to breakfast, boy, I've got a community lunch to be arranging this weekend," she said stiffly.

Sighing, Harry went to work in the kitchen. No sooner had he begun, though, the doorbell rang. It was barely half past seven, and he knew from experience that there should be no visitors at this hour. His uncle would be getting ready for work, his aunt would be going over the latest gossip, and his cousin would be asleep. There would be no one who would come looking for him, considering the fact that he had no friends, and his aunt was his only living relative.

"You stay where you are, boy," she snapped, clearly irritated at having her morning routine interrupted. "I'll get that." But Harry sensed that there was a slight trepidation, a sort of apprehension in her voice, as she got up and walked slowly to the front door.

Harry caught sight of a whole lot of people standing at the front door, but perhaps the one who seemed to be most eccentric was the tall man with long white hair that reached his waist and an equally long beard, merry blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. Behind him stood another tall, aristocratic looking man with platinum blond hair that swept past his shoulders and dark silver eyes. Harry couldn't make out the individual features of the other men that stood behind them. 

For a long moment, nothing happened. His aunt was transfixed, frozen to the spot. Harry thought she'd gotten paralyzed. Until she screamed. All of a sudden, she was backing away from the doorway, screaming for her husband.

"VERNON!!" 

Vernon Dursley thundered down the stairs, shaving cream slathered generously over all three of his chins, razor in hand, and stopped short at the end of the stairway. This completely blocked the visitors from Harry's view, but as far as he could tell, his uncle hadn't been expecting them either.

"Get out of my house!" Vernon bellowed after a split second. Harry fought the urge to cover his ears. "GET OUT! RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!"

"We will get out in due time, Mr. Dursley," one of the men said. "But first, there are things that we must discuss with you. So, for the time being, let us assume that you have invited us into your home, unless you wish for the entire street to be privy to this ... ah, scene."

Vernon spluttered, and Petunia, who was now cowering next to her husband, seemed to have been rendered equally speechless.

"Thank you." The men entered the living room and seated themselves. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, if you would please be seated. We have a matter of importance to discuss."


	2. The Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strange visitors to Harry's relatives' home come with even stranger news.

Harry kept his eyes and most of his concentration on preparing breakfast, but he was also keeping a very sharp ear on the conversation outside. A quick glance at the living room showed that his aunt and uncle had indeed taken seats cross from the six or seven visitors.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, we would like to request the presence of your nephew for this conversation, as it pertains to him."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, and he brought down the knife that he had been using to slice the bacon down on his finger. An involuntary yelp escaped him, before he stuffed his uninjured fist into his mouth, praying that no one had heard the noise. 

For a moment, there was pin drop silence throughout the house, interrupted only by the loud snores from upstairs, indicating that Dudley Dursley was still fast asleep. And then, once again, the stranger with blue eyes spoke. 

"I believe we requested for the presence of your nephew, here, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. The sooner you call him, the sooner we can get this over with."

That seemed to do the trick, for not a second later, he could hear Vernon's thick voice rent the air. "BOY!!" There was a collective murmur of disapproval, but no one seemed to say anything out loud. 

Very much aware of the tension in the next room, Harry hurriedly wiped his hands on his baggy t-shirt and moved to the living room, running one desperate hand through his hair and hoping that for goodness' sake it wouldn't look as unruly as it normally did.

"Harry." Harry locked eyes with the blue-eyed old man, noticing that he was dressed in old-fashioned medieval robes of an eccentric blue color with an even more eccentric gold embroidery. To his relief, the man was smiling. "Please do have a seat."

Harry sat awkwardly on a large purple beanbag that was normally occupied by one of Dudley's friends when they came over.

"Well, it has come to our notice that Harry is not the biological son of James and Lily Potter," the man continued. "He was, however, adopted by blood, and Lily Potter did carry him. He will still be the Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, as they have no other descendants. Nonetheless, since the adoption ritual and potion have worn off, his birth parents would like to claim him as their son, and thus remove him from your care. It also seems to be in Harry's best interests that he know his real parents."

"You mean... he is not related to us?" To Harry's surprise, it was his aunt who spoke first.

"Yes." That simple answer made Harry's heart race with both apprehension and excitement, adrenaline firing up every nerve in his body. 

"Very well," Vernon said, breathing heavily. "If his parents want to take him, they are more than welcome."

"It has also been deliberated that that course of action will only be taken if Harry wishes to live with his parents," the man continued, maddeningly calm. "If he wishes to remain with you - "

"He will not," Vernon shot back. "Nine years we have raised him thinking him to be the son of Petunia's sister, and he would never have been allowed in this house save for that reason! Nine years, we have fed and housed a stranger! No longer will we tolerate any of this freakishness!" 

Three of the men had stood up at his outburst, one of them being the platinum haired, silver eyed man. 

"Lucius, Sirius, Remus, I beg that you collect yourselves." The old man stood, clearly disappointed in the response he had gotten from the Dursleys. However, when he turned to Harry, his eyes were kind and gentle. "Harry, I'm afraid that there is no second option available to you as of now. You will have to move in with your parents."

Unable to process all of the information at once, Harry simply nodded mutely.

"Sirius, Idina, if you please." A tall, handsome man with long, jet black hair and bluish silver eyes, stepped forward, hand in hand with a beautiful lady with platinum blond hair and bright amethyst eyes. "Harry, meet your parents, Sirius and Idina Black, Lord and Lady of the Ancient and Noble House of Black."

"Hello, Harry." Sirius spoke first, his voice warm and slightly thick, and Harry turned slightly to study the man who was his actual father. 

"H-Hi." Sirius' well-built, muscular figure was intimidating, but a gut feeling told Harry that he didn't mean any harm.

"Hello, sweetie." Idina spoke, emboldened by her son's response, and moved forward to swath him in an embrace. She smelt like fresh lavender and the ocean, and Harry mentally cringed at himself, sure that he must stink after at least two days of not having showered.

"Well, Harry, the sooner we pack up all your stuff, we can leave," Sirius said cheerfully. "Moony, Lucy, you want to come?"

"Yeah." "Do  _not_ call me that! Yes, I'm coming."

Harry gulped. He had a feeling that they were not going to be happy when they realized that he didn't exactly have much stuff. Scratch that, minus his glasses, which had been annoying him ever since he woke up, he didn't think he owned anything of his own at all. 

 


	3. Leaving the Dursleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's living conditions are found out and tempers fly

"Well, Harry?" Sirius turned to his son, noticing that he was still glued to the beanbag. "Where's your room, p-?" Idina elbowed him sharply, making him stop.

Harry's eyes darted between his uncle and aunt, and then to his parents. He had no idea how to tell them that he didn't have a room, he had a cupboard, and even there, he didn't exactly have much stuff. 

Idina swept closer to him, kneeling down so that their eyes met. "Harry dear, is there something we need to know?"

Harry knew he should tell them, that they deserved to know how he had been treated, but he was far too scared of the consequences he would have to deal with from the Dursleys if he actually did say anything. In any case, if he was leaving, it shouldn't be a problem anymore. 

"It's alright," Lucius spoke up, after eyeing his sister and nephew for a moment. "Mr. Dursley, if you could escort us to Harry's room, please. We are running short on time."

Vernon's large face was turning an ugly shade of purple, making Lucius sure that there was something wrong going on. Losing patience with the uncooperative Muggle, he drew his wand, his hand perfectly steady as he pointed it directly at the man's heart. "You will take us there NOW, Mr. Dursley, or I am sure there will be less than pleasant consequences."

Vernon backed up at once, his eyes fixed on the tip of Lucius' wand. Once he reached the cupboard, his eyes flitted nervously to the handle, but Lucius misinterpreted it as the man being unwilling to go upstairs. "Come on, you lazy oaf, if his room is upstairs, then you're supposed to be going the-"

"His room?" The curious query had everyone's eyes turning towards the source, which turned out to be an incredulous looking Dudley who was still wearing pajamas. "Whose room?"

"Ah, you must be - Dudley, was it?" Remus said, seeing a much more efficient way to get the information required. When the boy nodded curiously, he continued. "Well, Dudley, would you mind showing us to Harry's room?"

"He doesn't have a room, sir," Dudley replied, with a soft scoff. Lucius started at that, but both Sirius and Remus held him back by his robes. 

"So - so where does he stay?" Lucius prompted, unceremoniously yanking himself free of his cousin-in-law and the said man's best friend, sparing a glare for each of them.

"Right there," Dudley said calmly, as if there was nothing wrong, lifting one stubby finger to show the area where his father was standing, and now sweating profusely.

All three men swerved, their eyes catching the shiny brass handle of the broom cupboard, and widening in horror. Sirius raised his wand as well, pointing directly at Vernon, his hand shaking slightly with anger. Vernon backed up away from the cupboard, until he was standing right next to his own son.

Lucius stepped forward and turned the handle apprehensively, with Sirius and Remus close behind him. The door creaked open to reveal a musty broom cupboard that had a bare, moth eaten mattress inside, with a rumpled, ragged blanket and a thin, hard pillow on it. There were a couple of shelves on the wall next to the bed, which were clearly an amateurish attempt to hold up a couple of well-worn books and a host of broken toys. The room was also home to a lot of spiders, which didn't seem to mind having visitors. There were clothes strewn around, mostly at the foot of the mattress, all too large for Harry, but apparently belonging to him.

For a long moment, they were all speechless. Then, it seemed like all hell broke loose all at once. Lucius roared, turning on Vernon, who was now flattened against the wall in terror, his eyes never having left the now glinting tip of the blond man's wand. Sirius stalked right back to where the old man who had accompanied them sat, stormy eyes spitting sparks of rage. Remus turned right in time to hold off Idina from marching over to the cupboard to see exactly how bad it was, with little success. The other two men who had come, and had said nothing all the while, were also inspecting the cupboard in pure horror. Harry cowered in the beanbag, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, wishing everyone would just calm down. 

"ENOUGH!!" Everyone stopped and turned to the man who had yelled. He was a peculiar looking man, with faded golden hair sprouting from a mostly receded hairline, one blue eye and another artificial electric blue one which was now whizzing every which way in its socket, leaning on a sturdy, grubby looking stick, for one of his legs was a prosthetic.

"Alastor." The old man seemed to look slightly pleased at his actions.

"Not now, Dumbledore," the man growled. "I want to have a long word with you about this later. Lucius, I assure you, you will get your chance to deliver justice to the Muggles, but for the moment, you will holster your wand. Sirius, once I am done with him, the Headmaster is all yours. Remus, there is absolutely no point in holding her back. She is his mother, and deserves to know. We can discuss the fine details LATER, you hear me? Right now, Kingsley and I will be reporting the extensive maltreatment of the Black and Potter heir to the Ministry of Magic and other related parties, while the rest of you will be escorting Harry to - Black Manor, was it?"

"Yes," Sirius said, still snappish, his eyes still filled with hard fury, but they softened as they fell on his son. "Come here, Harry."

Harry mutely obeyed, moving somewhat stiffly to his father's side. Sirius put one arm gently around his shoulders, pulling him close. There was a soft gasp as Idina began to both cry and hyperventilate, but Remus had a supportive arm around her. Lucius was also by her side. Kingsley and Alastor were bringing up the rear, with a very put out Dumbledore in front of them, and together, they left the house. 


	4. Black Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry arrives at his new home

Soft thuds announced the arrival of the group at the doorstep of Black Manor, an isolated, large property that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The mansion had been painted in black with dark gray shades to accentuate it. 

Harry couldn't help but gaze in wonderment at the royal looking building, his large green eyes filled with amazement. Sirius looked down at him and smiled softly. He knew that Harry probably only remembered the Dursleys and their Muggle lifestyle, and this was comparatively different. 

"Well, let's get inside and get you settled," Sirius said with a smile. His anger at the Dursleys and Dumbledore wasn't forgotten, but it was at the back of his mind for the time being, seeing how he finally had custody of his son. His arm tightened slightly around Harry, making him stiffen slightly in the embrace. Idina seemed to have gotten over most of her shock, and glided over to them, tucking a dainty hand into her husband's free arm, giving Harry a vibrant smile as she did so.

They entered the magnificent building, and Harry's jaw dropped as far as it would go. The hallway was dimly lit with smokeless fire torches contained in crystal lamps, and Harry only vaguely registered the others taking off their traveling cloaks - or in Sirius' case, his robes - and hanging them up. He was more fascinated by the pure black statues of winged unicorns hanging in midair, only their eyes a brilliant snow white, giving them an ethereal look.

"Come on, Har." Sirius gently steered him through the hallway and into the living room. 

The living room was far grander than Harry could have imagine. The walls were all a smooth deep mauve grey, and black, white eyed winged unicorns flew, raced and reared on the walls, almost as if they were alive. There was a large fireplace with a folding black cast iron grating, in front of which sat a majestic, crimson velvet couch set, around a quaint, glass topped ebony coffee table. Thick, blood red drapes hung over the floor-to-ceiling, ebony paned windows on either side of the luxurious room. The floor was covered by a soft, plush black carpet that reminded Harry strongly of silky fur.

"How about some tea before we continue the tour?" Idina suggested, observing her son carefully. "I'm sure you're hungry, right?"

Harry nodded and Sirius beamed at his wife, stooping to plant a quick kiss on her forehead. "That's a great idea, love."

"Isabel!" Idina called loudly, and out of nowhere, with a loud crack, a small goblin like creature with large eyes and ears and a rounded nose appeared, dressed in what looked like a tea towel dress. "Harry, this is Isabel, and she is the Head House Elf. She makes sure that everything goes smoothly in the house. You can call her if you need a quick snack or anything. Isabel, this is our son, Harlan, but he will be called Harry. And now, could you get us tea in the living room, as soon as possible please."

"Yes, Lady Black." And with another deafening crack, Isabel disappeared.

Sirius guided Harry over to the couch and sat down beside him on the double seat, while Idina perched in the single seat next to Harry. Both of them were anxious to know what he had been through at the hands of the Muggles who had mistreated him, but they also wanted him to feel comfortable telling them. Sirius had had a horrible childhood at the hands of his own parents, and it had taken him years to confide in his friends, and even longer for him to confide in Idina. They both knew how traumatic it could be to recount such memories willingly, so they were desperate not to pressure Harry into telling them. However, they were even more apprehensive of not knowing what he had gone through.

"Harry dear, is there anything you want to ask us?" Idina asked gently, laying one hand reassuringly on Harry's forearm. He flinched slightly, but did not respond otherwise.

"It's alright, pup, you don't have to be afraid," Sirius coaxed. "We're here to help, but we can't do that if you don't say anything."

Harry squirmed, discomfited by the close attention he was being paid. For nine years, he had learned that the less attention he was being paid, the less likely he was to suffer. Even though he couldn't read the same malice and violence in Sirius or Idina, reflexes built over nine years didn't just go away. He was wary of trusting them, simply for the fear that in the end, however unlikely it seemed at the moment, they would end up hating him. All his life, he could only remember being hated, being the extra person that no one wanted. He had believed it, at one point, and now it was simply more than he could think of to accept that he had had a family all along. His mind was still reeling from all the information, and a very familiar feeling was boiling up the more he thought about it. These people were his real parents. His adopted parents were the ones who had died in a car crash all those years ago. If they had given him up for adoption, blood adoption, whatever that was, then why did they suddenly want him now?

No matter how much he wanted to know the answer, he didn't dare ask. Not asking questions hadn't just been the first rule of living in the Dursleys house, it also was a very efficient way of not inviting more trouble upon himself, because no matter what he did, he always seemed to be in trouble for something. The least he could do was try to keep it to a minimum, and thus, he didn't bother asking questions. If he was supposed to know, he would be told. It worked for him. On the other hand, he didn't know why, but he simply didn't want to infuriate Sirius. The cold anger in his eyes when he had turned on Vernon Dursley had not gone unnoticed by Harry, and it unnerved him. It was bad enough that Vernon had been so maddeningly temperamental, but Sirius seemed to be a lot more powerful than him, and Harry wasn't sure he would be able to handle it if that anger was to be directed at him, ever. Also, he had a feeling that asking that particular question would upset Idina, and for a reason that even he didn't completely understand yet, he didn't want to do anything that would upset her. So he just didn't say anything, hoping that they would both simply get tired of it and give up on trying. Everyone gave up on him anyway, and he wasn't sure that if he trusted them now, he would be able to live up to their expectations later. It was simply too much to think about, too much effort to put in.

"Maybe we should leave talking for dinner time?" Sirius suggested, studying that all-too-familiar look in his son's eyes. "It's far too late for lunch as it is, and we've still got to show Harry around the house. Luckily, the Hogwarts letters wouldn't have been sent out yet, so we'll be there with you when it arrives."

Harry looked blank, unable to comprehend what he was excited about. Hogwarts? It sounded like a disease, or some sort of disgusting insect. 

"Tea is ready, Lord, Lady, and Master Blacks." Isabel arrived with a large tray bearing a large pot of steaming chamomile tea, an array of fresh butter cookies, cheese biscuits, salted crackers and a small fruit tea cake. She set down the tray artfully on the coffee table before disappearing with another resounding crack.

"Harry dearest, do you really have nothing to say?" Sirius sighed when Idina spoke again.

He knew why Harry was like this, he could see himself in his son, and he hated it. He hated knowing that Harry had suffered through abuse at the hands of those vile Muggles, while he had been able to do nothing about it. He knew that if Harry dropped the glamours, he would see a younger version of himself, cowering under the abuse. Even so, he knew that he could never compare his suffering to Harry's. Even in his darkest times, he had always had Andromeda, James, Remus, Lily, Idina and several other good friends who would help him get over it. Harry had had no one. Prodding him right after they met was probably the worst possible thing they could do, and yet that was exactly what Idina was doing now. He could remember several occasions where he hadn't wanted to talk about an incident, and either James or Idina would keep on nagging until he finally blew up, yelled at them, hexed whatever came his way (them included) and strung curses at them until he collapsed or wore out. That definitely wasn't how he wanted things to go down with Harry, not with this being his first day back. Then again, he had never been very good at preventing Idina from doing exactly as she wanted.

"I don't." Harry's voice was as emotionless as his eyes, when he turned to look at her, only for a brief moment, before he turned his eyes back to his hands. Sirius noticed that his hands were clasped together, arms wound around knees he had drawn to his chest, looking painfully like the depressed teenager he himself had once been.

"Don't lie." Idina wasn't budging. She was desperate to get Harry back to being a normal teenager, instead of missing out the prime of his youth, the way Sirius had.

"I'm not lying," Harry said quietly, but there was a dangerous undercurrent to his tone. He was angry, hurt, confused and shaken, and more than anything, he wanted to be left alone. It didn't matter that she was his mother. She hadn't been much of a mother when he had been suffering at the mercy of the Dursleys, and he wasn't ready to accept a person who came and went from his life as they pleased. He was secretly glad that Sirius hadn't gotten too close, wasn't trying to get him to talk. He preferred not to, anyway. 

"You're saying that you have nothing to say, even though your entire life just changed in a matter of two hours?" Idina very nearly scoffed, but her sarcasm was evident.

"I don't have anything to say to a person who never wanted me in the first place!" Harry hissed acidly at her before bolting, racing off through the dark, unfamiliar corridors. 

Sirius sighed and took off after him, knowing full well that Harry would get lost in the labyrinth of corridors. Nearly one hour later, tired and exasperated with Idina and Harry alike, and with still no clue as to where his son was hiding, Sirius trudged wearily out to the back garden, nearby the cliffs, to get some air. It had been an exhausting day, and all he wanted to do was have a good dinner with his family and go straight to bed. He flopped down on the grass nearby the wooden swing, wishing things had been better. A soft, strangled sob from the bushes nearby had him straighten, sitting up in the love-grass, and staring intently at the blue rose bush. He caught a glimpse of messy black hair, and smiled to himself sadly. He could only wish that Harry hadn't had to go through all of that, but wishing wasn't going to make it a reality.

"Hey," he said softly, crouching down by the bush, "it's okay, I won't force you to come out. Go straight ahead from here, and you'll get to the back door, alright? If you're late, it's still fine, just make sure you call Isabel to get you some dinner before you go to sleep. If you want anything, you can always just walk straight into our room, okay?"

Harry sat completely still, and was shocked to hear a bitter understanding in Sirius' voice. Something in his voice told Harry that if nothing else, Sirius knew exactly how he felt. He saw the man stand up through the leaves, and a sudden wave of panic seemed to crash through him. Without thinking, he blindly lunged with one hand, catching Sirius by his jeans, and the older man bent down, slightly off balance, to pull Harry gently to his feet, holding him close in a warm embrace.

"Why?" Harry whispered, the courage to ask finally reaching him. "Why did you give me for adoption?" His voice cracked, and Sirius tightened his arms around his son.

"Come on inside, I'll tell you everything there, alright?" Sirius said softly, pulling slightly away so that he could hold Harry's head against his heart. Harry nodded jerkily, unable to trust his voice at that moment.

Sirius put one arm around him, smiling sadly as he led his son into the house for the second time in about as many hours. This time, however, he led Harry through a door he was sure he had never seen before. It led to an enormous dining hall, with enough seats to cater to a hundred people easily, with glass and silverware gleaming magnificently on the cabinets lining the far walls. Sirius chuckled softly at Harry's amazement, before gently propelling him into the seat to the immediate right of the head, into which he sank down.

"Harry, before I start telling you about this, you've probably already noticed, but our world, it isn't the same as the Muggle world you were living in," Sirius began, but Harry smiled bitterly at him, making him pause, knowing instinctively that Harry was going to say something.

"I know," Harry said softly. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia knew too. They knew I was one of the 'other kind' they called it. I could make stuff happen without actually doing it. I could get people to do things without them remembering how it happened. Aunt Petunia used to say that I was a freak even worse than my mother - her sister. I know magic is real because I used it a lot. I never really thought about it until today. I just knew that no matter what they did, they never could really stamp it out of me like they wanted."

"What happened today, pup? Is it because we came to get you?" Sirius asked gently, his heart turning over in apprehension.  _Stamp it out of me._ What had the Muggles done?!

"Not really. Today morning, I was throwing up, and my hair had gotten a bit longer and my eyes were like yours," Harry confessed softly. "And I didn't want them to find out about it, because they would probably get mad, and that wouldn't end well, so I changed it back to the way it used to be. But it didn't happen like other times. It took some time to work out. And that kind of scared me. I was always able to do magic the way I wanted to, I never expected that it would slow down, or malfunction just like that."

"It didn't malfunction," Sirius said reassuringly. "The blood adoption potion is essentially a very strong glamour that makes the child look like his adoptive parents instead of his biological ones. However, it is not a permanent measure. Every five years, the potion must be taken to maintain it. However, it lasted almost ten years with you. It could be because all four of the participants in the ritual were more than willing to do it, not to mention, we all have extremely powerful magical cores. Also, if we add the fact that James, your mother and I are all Purebloods, that would also be a highly strengthening factor for the potion to work. That is why it didn't wear off earlier. You must have been pretty shocked to see such a change in your appearance, meaning that you might have had some difficulty accessing your magic when compared to normal times."

"Okay," Harry mumbled, mollified somewhat. "So..."

"Yeah, okay." Sirius smiled. "Around the time my parents got married, there was a wizard who went bad, really, really bad. He wanted power, immortality, and the extinction of all Muggle-born and half-blood witches and wizards. He called himself Voldemort, but there's almost no one who dares to call him that. Mostly, he's just referred to as 'Dark Lord' or 'You Know Who'. He had scores of followers back then, they were known as the Death Eaters. Several Pureblood families joined the cause. Many more were split apart due to his movement, and only a few actually dared to stand up to him. I had three elder brothers, one younger brother and a younger sister. My parents were all for Voldemort's purification cause, but we weren't ready for that kind of responsibility. Circinus couldn't take the pressure. In his seventh year at Hogwarts, when we were all home for Christmas, he committed suicide. That incident shook my older twin brothers, Cetus and Cepheus, to the core. On the train back to Hogwarts, they stole away, and have never been heard of ever since. This happened in my fourth year at Hogwarts. Two years later, I couldn't stand it any longer and I ran away. I sought refuge with the Potters, who gladly took me in as their second son. The next year, Regulus joined the Death Eater ranks. Lucius, Idina's brother you met today, also joined along with Reg. At the end of the year, James and Lily got married, right after their graduation. Your mother and I got married, because she decided to drop out of school. Lucius married one of my cousins, Narcissa. Two months later, we found my younger sister, Ara, dead, in a place that had a recent history of Death Eater visits. Regulus tried to leave after that, but apparently Voldemort killed him. My parents never mourned her loss. A few months later, several things happened at once. Narcissa and Idina were found to be pregnant. Lucius was scared. You see, he had two younger sisters, and he loved them both, despite all their differences. And though he wanted to leave, he had seen what became of Regulus. So when he realized that Voldemort had plans to kill you, and he was very specific that he wanted to kill you, your mother and I decided to do a dual parency. James and Lily were only too willing to adopt you. When you were just four months, you were transferred from your mother's womb to Lily's. We completed the rituals, the potions and all the formalities in a single night. The next day, the Potters had vanished. They hid in an unplottable old Potter property called Cherry Cottage in Godric's Hollow, that was kept safe by the Fidelius Charm. Only those who were told the location by the Potters would have any access to it, and there were precious few people we could trust back then. We kept Voldemort on our trail, away from you. Every week, for a couple of hours or so, we would come to see you, to make sure you didn't forget us. And then, that Halloween night, the night after we'd just left, one of James and my mutual friends betrayed us to Voldemort. He came to kill you, but James and Lily died for you. In the end, they say Voldemort was thwarted, ripped apart by a one-year-old baby who he could not kill. He had killed scores, but he hadn't been able to kill you. I don't know how true that is. It took us three days to get here, and by that time, you had vanished. We searched high and low, we were searching through every magical family we could think of. Or rather, your mother and Remus were. The moment we landed in Britain, we realized that it had been circulated that I was the one who had betrayed James, and the Ministry was looking for me, I was a wanted man. I went after Pettigrew, the one who had actually betrayed the Potters, and the very moment I confronted him, he cut off his finger, transformed himself into a rat, and fled, after a blowing apart an entire street of innocent Muggles. At the very same moment, the Ministry showed up, and now I was additionally blamed for the murder of Pettigrew and thirteen Muggles. Nine years, Harry, I've been in prison. It took Remus, Idina and other mutual friends nine years to get me free after half a million trials, while also finding out where you were." Sirius let out a breath and looked Harry squarely in the eye. "Trust me, Harry, I would never, ever have left you anywhere but by my side after James and Lily died, if I'd had any kind of say in it."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. All the time that he had been suffering with the Dursleys, there had been people actually looking for him. He stared at Sirius, wide-eyed. 

"Now, I believe you have questions?" Sirius asked gently.

"Who put me there?" Harry asked immediately, all hesitation forgotten in the light of this new information. "Mother wasn't in prison. Why couldn't she take me?"

"Harry, pup, you were gone by the time we got here, love," Sirius said sadly. "I thought Pettigrew had you. Idina and Remus were doing all they could. We had no idea who had taken you, until last week, right after I got released, I overheard some talk about how Dumbledore regularly sent one of our old school nemeses out on recon missions in a completely Muggle neighborhood. When I took it up with Dumbledore, he said that it was where Lily's only living relative lived. Somehow, that just didn't strike me as the reason why he would keep a regular checkup on the place. So I went around talking to a few of Lily's friends, and they mentioned she did have a sister. Some people even suggested that Dumbledore might have left you - who they thought to be Lily's son - with her sister, because she would be your only remaining blood relative. Of course, all this paled into utter insignificance once we confronted Dumbledore, who was not at all willing to reveal anything at first. When we proved that you were our son by blood, magic and right, he gave up. But the protection Lily gave you that night, it's valid. She didn't have to be your mother for it to work. Lily died to protect you from Voldemort, and as long as that most powerful magic flows through your veins, Voldemort will never be able to kill you, Harry. She was not your real mother, maybe, but she loved you like her own. So did James."

Harry's tongue failed him. Tears welled up in his eyes for the parents he only had the barest memories of. Sirius felt his own eyes dampen, and he pulled his son close. Harry had meant the world to Sirius and Idina. James and Lily had been incredibly selfless, giving up their own lives to protect their son. Harry should have grown up under the care, love and guidance of four parents, but two of them had given their lives for him. And the other two had never given up on him. If he couldn't trust them, Harry realized, as he snuggled closer into Sirius's powerful embrace, his tears soaking the front of Sirius' t-shirt, then there was no one on the planet who he would ever be able to trust.


	5. Settling In

Dinner was a quiet affair. Sirius and Harry had gone down together, and after her son's outburst, Idina seemed to have thought the better of pressing the matter for the time being. Isabel had served up cream of chicken soup, followed by a steak course and finished with treacle tarts for dessert. It was clear that the three of them needed to talk, though, so after dinner, once again, they headed back to the living room. Harry sat next to Sirius like before, but this time, Idina took the seat next to him. 

"I'm sorry, love," she said softly, "but you have to understand that we did not give you to the Potters for adoption because we didn't want you."

Harry mumbled something along the lines of 'I know', his eyes cast down, flitting anywhere and everywhere other than his mother. Idina's head snapped up, searching her husband's eyes over Harry's head, and he nodded slowly. Understanding filled Idina's amethyst eyes, and she put one fair hand over Harry's smaller one. Sirius had slipped one arm around Harry, which was becoming something of a habit, despite the way Harry still flinched slightly, and one that they both were quickly getting used to.

"Lucius is going to bring Cissy and Draco over for lunch tomorrow," Idina said quietly. "They're both very excited to meet you, but if you want, I can ask Lucius to postpone it."

"Who?" Harry asked, quite sure that he hadn't heard of them before.

"Lucius is my elder brother. Narcissa is his wife, and also Siri's cousin. Draco is their son. He's your age, and you both will be joining Hogwarts next year," Idina explained. 

"Okay." Harry recalled the fair man with platinum hair and silver eyes, who had resembled his mother so much, and decided that he had nothing against him. Still, it was slightly discomfiting, to have been told that the very same man, his uncle, was still a known Death Eater, and had once been among those depraved people who had killed his adoptive parents. It was still hard to think of the Potters as his adoptive parents, even though he knew that his real parents were alive and with him.

"Well, we must go shopping tomorrow morning," Sirius said, his tone unreadable. "You'll be needing a completely new wardrobe, and we might as well as head into Gringotts to formally introduce you as the Heir to both the Houses. Not to mention, we'll have to drop in at the Ministry to have your name changed back to Black. It's going to be a tight fit for one morning, but since the Ministry likes to get things messy, and the goblins aren't exactly the most amenable people to deal with, it's best to get it done right away."

"What's Gringotts?" Harry asked, easily slipping out of the no-questions rule, and secretly glad that both Sirius and Idina were not annoyed or embarrassed by his questions.

"It's the wizarding bank," Sirius said warmly, glad that he was coming out of his shell. "And it's run by goblins. Since you're Heir, you'll have access to the main Black vault, your personal vault, the main Potter vault, as well as James' and Lily's vaults, since they left everything they owned to you. All the Lordship, Heirship, adoption and marriage rituals are carried out by the goblins as well. There are individual goblins who look after each House's rituals, transactions, vaults and all other matters pertaining to the house."

Harry was going to ask exactly what the Heirship ritual would be, but he yawned, and Sirius chuckled softly, running one hand through Harry's messy hair. "I agree. You've had a big day, and it's best that you rest up. Come on, we never did get around to showing you your room, right? Done eating? Alright. Coming, Di?"

Idina rose with a smile when Harry turned to her, his eyes still holding a trace of guilt. Sirius dropped one arm around Harry's shoulders, and began leading him upstairs, to the second floor. Harry turned with a question on his mind, but Sirius answered before he could ask. "We don't normally visit the first floor. Mother and Father have their rooms there. Also, that floor has Circinus', Cetus', Cepheus' and Ara's rooms, so it's almost like a sacred zone. If you want to look around the rooms, though, you could."

"Um..." Harry wasn't really sure how to frame his next question.

"It's alright, pup, you can ask away," Sirius smiled. "It's only natural for you to have a lot of questions, but we won't know until you ask."

"Do your parents not live here?" Harry asked, making Sirius stop abruptly, and Idina very nearly crashed into them both.

"No," Sirius said finally, with a sigh. "We never got along very well. Father and I are on speaking terms as of now, but Mother was never someone who could be negotiated with. I was never their favorite, and I made a lot of decisions that they disapproved of. When Father stepped down as Lord, I had to take over because my other brothers were either dead or missing, and I was the sole known heir. No doubt, though, they will come to know that we have claimed you soon enough, and will demand that either we visit them in London, or they will come down to visit with no prior notice. I suspect that it's the latter though, given my mother's nature."

"So we're the only Blacks?" Harry asked curiously, but he was also slightly disappointed. He had rather been thinking of a big family. 

"Heavens, no!" Sirius laughed. "Well, the oldest ones alive would be my paternal grandfather Arcturus the Third, his sister Lycoris, my maternal grandfather, Pollux, his sister Cassiopeia and my maternal grandmother Irma. There are a few cousins I have too, on mother's side. Andromeda, Bellatrix and Narcissa are sisters, daughters of my mother's brother. Their mother, Druella is still alive, but she rarely socializes, from what I hear."

"Well, my parents are alive too, Abraxas and Medusa. You can read up on the family trees later, they aren't the best thing to be discussing when you're sleepy," Idina laughed. "You will need to know them, of course, as Heir, but it's not imperative that you learn them all immediately."

By now, they were standing in front of a large ebony door with 'HARRY' printed in large silver lettering. Sirius nodded encouragingly at Harry, who gulped and turned the handle.

The room was large enough to fit the Dursleys living room and dining hall easily into it. It was painted blood red, with dark gold paneling where the walls met the floor and ceiling. The wall at the far end of the room was a floor-to-ceiling glass window, giving him a spectacular view of the cliff and gardens. The bed was a king-size canopied four poster right next to the window, with some space for a small oakwood bedside table, on which sat a lamp emitting a soft golden light. Harry noticed that the duvet and pillows were a dark velvet red, but the bed cover was gold. There was a bathroom on the adjoining wall near the bed, a large mahogany study area on the far left wall, and two majestic oakwood wardrobes and a dresser on the far right. All of the furniture seemed to be a dark shade of red, accentuated by dark gold. 

"How do you like it, pup?" Sirius asked, and Harry noticed that his parents were standing right behind him, though he couldn't remember actually stepping into the room.

"It's brilliant," Harry said softly, all of a sudden shy. Idina smiled and swept up to him, taking his face in her hands and kissing his forehead gently.

"We're glad you like it," she said, just as softly, making him flush. "Come on now, get into bed. We've still got some of Reggie's smaller clothes here, you'll have to make do tonight. Unfortunately, I must get going, I did tell my dear mother-in-law that I would meet her, and if I don't go now, she will most likely storm in here. So then, goodnight, love, Harry. Sleep well. Don't wait up for me, Sirius, you know how your mother is. I will probably be a long time, maybe past midnight."

Sirius looked like he was definitely going to stay up, but instead, he only kissed her forehead, and then turned to Harry with a sheepish smile. "I actually forgot to bring Reggie's stuff up here for you. I'll just go downstairs and grab some of his clothes. Do you want to wait here, or are you coming with me?"

Remembering that Regulus' room was on the first floor rekindled Harry's simmering adrenaline, and he nodded at once. Sirius smiled, a bit surprised that he actually wanted to visit what he was sure was the creepiest part of the house, before he threw his arm around his son and they walked back down the stairs. On the way, though, Sirius could tell that Harry was itching to ask something but was also holding back, for some reason, perhaps because he didn't know if he should ask?

"Something wrong, pup?" Sirius asked quietly, making Harry turn to him.

"What do I call you?" Harry asked, feeling stupider than ever now that he had actually said it out loud, but he still wasn't sure. The people he thought were his parents still felt more like Mama and Dada, and yet, it seemed both insane not to and awkward to be calling Sirius and Idina that. Sirius had referred to his own parents as Father and Mother, but to Harry, that felt incredibly distant, formal and cold. Almost as if he was only saying it out of obligation. He didn't want it to be like that with Sirius and Idina.

"Hmm?" Sirius looked down at his son, and read the genuine turmoil there. "How's Mom and Dad? You okay with that?"

Harry nodded, ducking his head as he flushed scarlet once again, much to Sirius' bemusement, and they continued in a comfortable silence until they reached Regulus' room. It was very similar to Harry's own room, except that it was done in a rich, dark green and accentuated with glittering silver. There were several hundreds of books in the many bookcases all around the room, as well as shelves full of odd artifacts. One of them, however, caught Harry's attention: a large, heavy golden locket with the initial 'S' inscribed like a snake over it. It seemed to call to Harry, and it was only when Sirius put a hand on his shoulder that Harry looked up, snapping out of his trance, blinking in confusion.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Sirius couldn't deny that he was worried. Harry had been in a trance-like state when he had gone over to the shelves, and while he didn't think that Regulus would be careless enough to bring Dark artifacts back to the Manor, his brother had died a Death Eater, so it wasn't completely impossible for him to have done so.

"That locket..." Harry turned back to the artifact, squinting to make out the details better. There was not even a single scratch on it. "Is there something inside it?"

"I dunno, pup," Sirius said truthfully, stepping up to the shelf, and looking down at the said artifact. Immediately, he sensed a thick aura of Dark magic emanating from it, and he knew it could be nothing good. "It doesn't look like much, but it's got a pretty powerful Dark aura. I don't want you coming looking for this again, alright?"

"It felt like it was calling to me," Harry admitted. "It's like a voice. It pulled me there." Harry looked up to find worry filling his father's eyes.

"I didn't sense any magic from it until you were standing right next to it, Harry, and that can only mean one thing," he said quietly, his tone dead serious. "Whatever is inside that thing, whatever spells are on it, it's very, very dangerous. It's forbidden Dark magic, magic that uses the blood of victims. This was created by a murderer, Harry, and I don't want you anywhere near it. I will be moving it from here at the earliest opportunity, but until then, I don't want you coming here, not until after I have removed it, you understand?"

"Okay." Harry could understand what Sirius was saying, but a part of him wanted to go back to the locket and keep it by his side. It was just too confusing.

"That's my boy," Sirius smiled, ruffling up his hair a little ruefully. "Come on, I've got you clothes. Just for the night, though, we're going shopping tomorrow."

"Dad?" Harry spoke up shyly, making Sirius turn to him with a bright smile. It was the first time Harry had ever called him that, and he would never tire of hearing it.

"Yes pup?"

Harry realized that he had no idea what he had wanted to say, and just looked up at Sirius with a lost expression, but Sirius seemed to understand anyway. He had been in a similar sort of predicament when he first arrived at the Potters after running away, but he wasn't a stranger to them. Words just failed to describe sometimes, and he knew that. He beckoned silently to Harry, who immediately came closer, and pulled him into a tight hug, pausing to kiss the top of the unruly black mop of hair.

"You don't need to say it, Har, I know," he said softly. "I just want you to be safe, I want you to know that even though we're a few lifetimes too late, we're going to be there for you from here on out. You mean the world to us, Harry. I'm really sorry you had to suffer all these years but I promise that you'll never have to go through that ever again."

And when Sirius backed out of the room to give him some privacy to change, Harry finally let the tears fall. It was the first time he could remember crying for happiness. He finally had a family that wanted him. He wasn't a freak or the Dursleys punching bag anymore, he had parents and a family that truly wanted him. Memories of his previous life began to swamp him: nights when he couldn't sleep, he would watch Petunia tuck Dudley in and wait at his bedside till he fell asleep before kissing him goodnight and turning down the lights before she turned to shout at him to go to bed; watching Dudley get crates of toys every Christmas while he got torn socks or clothes hangers; Dudley's birthdays where his aunt would make him cook up a feast but give him only a stale piece of bread and molding cheese, and it was just too much. He could find nothing to complain about in the new life he'd just entered, but he knew that the memories of his life with the Dursleys would haunt every nightmare he had for years to come. His good mood slowly ebbed as he finished changing silently, and sank down by the wardrobe, looking blankly at the bed. He'd never had a bed before, and he did now, but it still looked lonely, to have to get into that huge bed alone every night. He didn't know what to do with himself. He hated the Dursleys with every fiber of his being, but he also knew that he didn't belong here. It simply couldn't be true that he could be deserving of this much affection after all those years where he'd been deprived of it, and it just didn't make any sense anymore. His legs came up to his chest and he wrapped his arms around them as he let his head drop onto his clasped knees, just like he had done so many times before. He didn't fit in anywhere.

"Harry? Pup, are you done?" Sirius knocked on the door, slightly anxious when he could hear nothing from inside the room, and Harry didn't open the door either. But Harry was too deep in thought, and didn't hear Sirius or the knocking, which was beginning to get frantic. Finally, Sirius tried the handle, which opened, alleviating some of his worries, but any relief he felt quickly vanished when he caught sight of Harry curled into himself by the wardrobe, sniffling silently.

"Harry?" Sirius bent down so that he was on eye level with his son, infinitely worried. "Pup, what's wrong?" He reached out gently, deciding the better of trying to force Harry to look up, and settled for gently stroking his hair instead. "Pup, come here, please?" Harry halfheartedly lifted his head to peek out from behind his fringe, and shuffled closer.

Sirius smiled, glad that Harry was choosing to trust him, and pulled him into a warm hug. "It's okay, pup. I know it's tough, and it doesn't feel real right now. It takes some time to get used to it, but maybe by the time you've gone shopping and meet your uncle's family, you'll be feeling better about being here. Right now, all I want you to do is stay calm. Just try not to panic, alright? I'm going to be here, right here, whenever you want me. Come on, let's get you tucked in. It's getting late, and your mother is most definitely not going to be pleased to find out that you haven't slept properly. So, let's not incur her wrath, and go to bed, alright? Harry?"

Sirius looked down to find Harry already asleep, leaning against him. Smiling, Sirius picked him up and tucked him into bed. He had turned down the lights and was just about to leave the room when a thought struck him and he changed his mind. Instead, he walked back to the bed, lifted the duvet and settled down next to his son.


End file.
